State Rep. Mitch Bolinsky, right, stops to visit with Michael Rell, director of outreach for the House Republican Caucus at the Capitol Monday, June 3, 2013. Rell is the son of former Gov. M. Jodi Rell.

State Rep. Mitch Bolinsky, right, stops to visit with Michael Rell, director of outreach for the House Republican Caucus at the Capitol Monday, June 3, 2013. Rell is the son of former Gov. M. Jodi Rell.

State Rep. Mitch Bolinsky, center, flanked by fellow legislators, Whit Betts, left, and David Yaccarino, attends a session of the General Assembly Monday, June 3, 2013 at the Capitol in Hartford, Conn.

State Rep. Mitch Bolinsky, center, flanked by fellow legislators, Whit Betts, left, and David Yaccarino, attends a session of the General Assembly Monday, June 3, 2013 at the Capitol in Hartford, Conn.

HARTFORD -- The driver of the silver Prius bearing a 106th District license plate doesn't sweat a pounding rain pelting the car's roof as he navigates morning rush hour on Interstate 84 from his Newtown home to the state Capitol.

It's two days before the legislative session ends. The weather might seem apropos to Republican Mitch Bolinsky, a freshman lawmaker who, since winning a squeaker of an election, has found himself in the eye of a different kind of storm, one born of politics and a heart-tugging tragedy.

"It's been crazy. ... There is no playbook for this," says Bolinsky, who on occasion might prefer a Teflon vest underneath what today is a purple dress shirt, tie and suspenders to match his gray, pin-striped suit with a green Sandy Hook lapel pin.

On Dec. 13, Bolinsky was an obscure freshman legislator-elect, a corporate marketer and part-time driving instructor whose previous government experience was on the Newtown Legislative Council. Neither he nor the district he represented was on the radar screen of anyone in Hartford.

That all changed the next day. Before he had even been sworn into the job, Bolinsky was serving a traumatized community, one that would raise searing questions about gun violence and mental health to be debated across Connecticut and the nation.

On this day, Bolinsky has another problem. After an all-night budget session -- Bolinsky was one of 48 Republicans to vote against the $44 billion biennial package -- he walks into the House chambers just before 11 a.m. Soon after he opens up his state-issue laptop computer to look at the day's agenda, veteran Republican Rep. DebraLee Hovey calls him over for a chat.

With lawmakers milling about, Hovey and he stand close together. She quietly but firmly admonishes him about how he addressed another legislator regarding a Newtown-related bill. Bolinsky, a burly man with a soft voice, is taken aback.

"If you're doing your job, to some degree you're going to make waves," Bolinsky, 54, says with a shrug. "I wasn't born perfect, and I wasn't born knowing how to be a legislator."

The education of Mitch Bolinsky continues.

"Freshmen are expected to be seen but not heard," Bolinsky says. "And I've broken the rules this year."

Yet after what's happened in his district this year, after what his constituents have endured, he says he is determined to succeed.

"I can't fail," Bolinsky says.

A baptism by fire

Few fellow lawmakers or local leaders would dispute Bolinsky has been tested by a whirlwind of conflicting demands stemming from the unprecedented spotlight on Newtown.

"He came in under the most difficult of circumstances, and with next to no time to kind of learn the ways of the General Assembly that, like any institution, has its ways of how we get along and rules we operate under," says this area's legislative godfather, Democratic Rep. Bob Godfrey, who just celebrated the end of his 25th General Assembly session.

"He's had sort of a baptism under fire, so to speak," Hovey says. "You learn from the missteps. Mistakes are only terrible if you don't learn from them."

Inside the chamber, Bolinsky sits at his cramped work space in the second-to-the-top legislative tier on the Republican side, two seats away from Republican Danbury Rep. Jan Giegler. He reads through a list of bills to be heard that day and does some research on measures he is less familiar with as they are not related to Newtown or from his committees: education, environment and appropriations.

During frequent breaks in the session -- Bolinsky jokes that the overall process is "like watching the grass grow in a drought in Arizona" -- he is approached by some senior House members. Kneeling or sitting down next to him, they discuss the status of what will be one of the most talked-about bills of the session: the proposed restriction on visual images and audio connected to crime scenes, particularly those involving children. The measure is being sought by the families of the Sandy Hook School shooting victims.

Bolinsky earned both plaudits and criticism for a bill he crafted soon after he took office in defense of Town Clerk Debbie Aurelia's decision to deny public access to the death certificates of the Sandy Hook School victims. In the final bill, death certificates remain in the public domain. But the crime scene photos will be sealed.

Bolinsky is fine with "walking away from the two death certificate bills."

"We're going to protect these families ... and whoever comes up with the legislative language to protect these families from the release of these photos is good enough for me," he says.

Pushing the button

Even at lunch, there are lessons in legislative protocol to be learned.

For these final days of a session, when the days drag on for 12 or more hours, the party caucuses provide food for members. On this day, Bolinsky has guests. Aware the caucus room is considered sacrosanct territory, Bolinsky asks a party leader for permission to invite them in. He's given a nod, but after filling his plate he is advised to eat with his guests in the adjoining hallway.

So he balances a plate of chicken marsala, salad and a Coke on his lap.

From his first day in office, Bolinsky has had to balance some competing priorities. He and most of his party viewed the Democrats' sweeping gun-control proposals as an assault on the Second Amendment. But surveys showed that 80 percent of his district backed the proposals.

Bolinsky broke ranks with many in the local Republican delegation and voted in favor of what is now regarded as the nation's toughest gun-control law.

"By the time I voted, I had no hesitation pushing the button," he says.

Even the Democrat who Bolinsky defeated by only 45 votes had praise for his vote on the gun measure. Lisa Romano says she appreciates the difficulties of Bolinsky's job and that she is "relieved" he supported the gun legislation. She also applauds his stand on restricting the release of crime scene images.

Though Godfrey says he hasn't had much personal contact with Bolinsky -- the two are not on any of the same committees and are not members of the same political party -- the Newtown representative has made himself known with a couple of impassioned speeches.

"It was quite moving, and he did speak eloquently," Godfrey says. "He has been most solicitous of his constituents, the parents and family members of the 26 victims from Newtown. And he seems like a genuinely real person who is very much concerned about his hometown and deserves a lot of credit being able to cope under such difficult circumstances."

His defining issue

As the day moves on toward evening, Bolinsky's weariness begins to show. A few times he can't stifle a yawn. After all, the weekend sessions have been all-nighters, and the part-time driving instructor still has lessons to teach if he can get home in time.

When he's not on the floor of the House or in a committee hearing or meeting, Bolinsky's refuge is his office. Here, too, are the signs of his lowly stature. Along with a Torrington freshman, he's been assigned an office that's tucked into the Democratic wing of the House floor.

Inside, he has a bookcase with family photos of his wife, Luisa, a medical technologist at St. Mary's Hospital in Waterbury, and his children -- Rachel, 22, a University of Connecticut graduate, and his son, Matt, a high school senior. On the bottom of the glass window next to his door is an African violet he was given by constituent Michelle Ku on a visit to the Capitol.

The walls are covered with photographs of Newtown, several from the candlelight tributes that followed the Sandy Hook tragedy.

Bolinsky knows the Sandy Hook shootings may forever define his legislative service. His constituents, he says, "endured more than any human being should ever have to endure."

The morning after the budget vote, Bolinsky didn't pull into Newtown until breakfast time. He stopped in at the Bagel Delight shop on Church Hill Road and was approached by a resident who simply said, "Thank you for what you've done. You really care."

That was a different thank you than he received from a Newtowner who emailed a note stating appreciation for his legislative updates.

"But I'll never vote for you again," said the opponent to the new gun laws.

Bolinsky says he values both responses.

"People who write to me get an answer, even people who are angry at me," Bolinsky says, adding that he intends to invite the gun owner for a coffee date in the very near future.

"I'm really doing this because I love the town, and I love the people. I don't give a damn about agendas. I do what my constituents want me to do."